


Blank Canvas

by Mangotits



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Not really any rape but definitely non-con, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reprogramming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangotits/pseuds/Mangotits
Summary: Re-Uploaded and Re-written."If Megatron couldn’t kill the Prime, then Soundwave would grant him control of the Prime. They had convinced Orion he was a Decepticon before, and Soundwave was certain it could be done again."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fresh take on an older fic that I posted from about a year ago under a different username. I absolutely love this story but it felt all wrong and rushed before. After taking some time off from it I began rewriting it and really giving it the attention I think it deserves. I'm not very good at introductory chapters and future chapters will be MUCH LONGER. Any and all critiques are welcome and thank you for reading!

Soundwave could no longer deny it. Megatron was unhinged. 

Soundwave watched as Megatron’s mental state deteriorated with each passing day, yet he stayed steadfastly loyal to his lord.  Soundwave knew there was no more “betterment” of Cybertron to fight for anymore because there was no Cybertron. Soundwave knew there was no cause to fight for because the Cause was dead. So Soundwave fought for Megatron. Whatever Megatron desired Soundwave risked life and limb to turn into reality because he had nothing left but the mech who recognized the potential in him all those millennia ago. So Soundwave pressed on and accepted that the war was no longer about their Cause but about crushing the Prime. 

Though his master would vehemently deny that losing Orion a second time had exacerbated his hatred, Soundwave knew better. Soundwave knew Megatron’s spark and thoughts. Megatron still saw Orion in Optimus. To the warlord, Orion and Optimus might as well have been two different mechs the way he clung to his memories of Orion but loathed Optimus with every molecule of his being. However, this hatred was not enough to enable Megatron to land a final blow because deep down, in the pit of his spark and mind, snuffing out Optimus’ spark meant to lose Orion forever. 

But Soundwave had a plan. If Megatron couldn’t kill the Prime, then Soundwave would grant him  _ control  _ of the Prime. They had convinced Orion he was a Decepticon before, and Soundwave was certain it could be done again. 

It took him months of research, but Soundwave was no stranger to sifting through vast amounts of data for prolonged periods of time. Soundwave began his studies by learning as much as he could about memory suppression, memory alteration, and a multitude of  different shadowplay methods used by the old Senate to tweak personalities (though without a mnemosurgeon genuine personality alteration would be an incredibly difficult- if not impossible- task). Interestingly enough, his research lead him to some recordings buried deep in the Decepticon archives that Arachnid had made while developing her “ability” to control the Insecticons. Her own unique research into shadowplay yielded the results that some types of processor-wiping software worked best when the victim _patient_ had some sort of bond to whoever was implementing the programming. Even more useful results showed that it did not seem to matter if the bond was genuine or artificial- it just had to be _strong_. 

Once Soundwave had acquired all the proper research, he began the process of crafting the programming. Soundwave spent every off-duty moment that he wasn’t recharging on the programming and often tested each new update on drones that had begun to show signs of rebelliousness.  The irony of the application of all of his research was not lost on Soundwave, but he had stopped finding humor in anything eons ago… Soundwave knew that this war had dragged them all to new lows and he was no exception. With each update proving more and more potent than the last, Soundwave finally decided it was time to test out his twisted creation on a subject who would present more of a challenge than the occasional drone. 

A quick survey of the decepticon prisoner database proved most helpful. Soundwave decided that the perfect candidate would be an Elite Guard cadet that had been apprehended during the final assault on the Iacon Archives. According to reports he was a mouthy thing who proven to be quite the handful for his guards. One quick order sent to the communications officer on the  _ Messantine’s Vengeance  _ and Soundwave’s plan was set into motion. 

 

Lord Megatron would be pleased. 


	2. Jail Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smokescreen makes a daring escape and sets a course for Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Second Chapter is done! I'm really pleased with it and excited for the role Smokescreen has in this story. Thanks again for reading!

 

The piercing sound of alarms shrieking could be heard all throughout the Decepticon warship as crimson siren lights splashed glaring red light along sprawling corridors.  Smokescreen darted down the dark halls of the Decepticon warship that had been his prison for the past few weeks as fast as his pedes could carry him. The sounds of heavy pedefalls and shouts of his pursuers echoed behind him which only heightened Smokescreen’s desperation as he looked for any means of an escape route. He couldn’t stop the sound of exasperation he made as he slowed down enough to read yet another sign written in text he couldn’t read. Most of the guards had spoken with a standard Kaonite accent, so the young Autobot had assumed the whole ship utilized in that dialect only to realize he’d been sadly mistaken when every sign he’d encountered had been in Vosian. 

 

“He went this way! C’mon! Hurry!” 

 

Smokescreen heard one of the guards who had been posted to watch him shout. Panicked and utterly lost, Smokescreen activated the first security door he could find with the key he had swiped from one of the guards. The door whooshed open and Smokescreen dove in. He quickly shut the doors behind him and immediately found a place to hide inside. 

The Autobot barely managed to squeeze inside a storage cabinet. The space was cramped. His doorwings were painfully too close to his spinal strut and his knees dug into his chest places, however, it had been the most immediate option Smokescreen had readily available given his unfortunate circumstances. 

Once settled, Smokescreen focused all his energy into controlling his intakes to reduce any extra noise despite his pounding sparkrate and pinging systems urging him to active his cooling vents to avoid overheating his frame. The familiar sound of pressurized doors hissing open along with heavy pedesteps made Smokescreen feel an icy churning in his tanks. He offlined his optics and his faceplates contorted into an expression borne of fear and discomfort. 

 

“IXT-486 said he last saw the Autobot in this sector of the ship on the security feed. Check all of the escape pods. Make sure all of them are still here.” One voice barked.

 

_ Escape pods!  _ Smokescreen thought as a sliver of hope cut through his terror; he may be surrounded by the enemy, forced to hide in a miserably tight space like a glitch mouse, and totally in over his helm, but at least he was exactly where he needed to be purely by sheer, dumb luck. The young mech strained to stay perfectly still and quiet as he listened to the Decepticon guards scurry about to fulfill their commanding officer’s command. Smokescreen could feel his cables tightening from anxiety and discomfort but his whole focus was on trying to place where the guards were searching- if he could pinpoint an approximate location of his means of escape then the escape itself would have one less detail for Smokescreen to worry about. 

 

“Sir, all escape pods are accounted for and have no signs of tampering.” One of the guards spoke up. 

 

“Fragit all to pit, the little dirt-kisser must have actually turned down the East wing like we first thought after all,” the commander snarled, “At least we know he’s still gotta be on the ship. Let me check with security control and make sure they didn’t give us the wrong Sector.”   


“Yes sir, Sergeant Circuit-breaker.” several voices chimed in unison. 

 

Smokescreen listened anxiously as a hush fell over the Decepticons while the commander- Circuit-breaker - commed the security sector. 

 

“Are you sure-... but  _ you  _ said he came this way...Scrap. Fine we’ll go check there. End transmission.” Circuit-breaker replied to the unheard mech on the other end of his transmission. 

 

“Okay mecha, listen up, Security says he could be in Sector 5 so let’s-” The sergeant began, then stopped and sighed in exasperation, “Primus, SQE, we’ve been over this a million times- if you have something to say don’t fidget about it just  _ say it _ ” the Sergeant said to one of his soldiers, Smokescreen presumed. 

 

“Er- Yessir, Circuit-breaker, sir. Permission to search the rest of the bay to make sure everything is clear?”  SQE asked nervously. 

 

Smokescreen felt terror grip his spark at the Decepticon soldier’s request;  if the commander decided to further search the bay then Smokescreen’s chances of seamless escape were as good as scrapped. 

 

“Finally, a soldier with a _ functioning _ processor,” Circuit-breaker scoffed,  “VTC-322, TXC-999, and CPY-042 - you three come with me to search Sector 5. BTE-098 and SQE-167, stay here and scour this place from top to bottom. If  you do happen to find that little scraplet of an autobot, remember we need him alive…” Circuit-breaker stated, then as an afterthought, added “but if the spirit moves you to tear his legs from his frame so he can’t even  _ think  _ about running again, then there might be an extra ration in it for you.”

 

_ Oh Primus please don’t search here, please don’t search here, please don’t search here _ … Smokescreen chanted to himself while his audial receptors could pick up the sounds of metal clanking and various doors being opened and slammed shut. As the sound of the Decepticons’ search grew closer and closer, Smokescreen’s anxiety escalated. He needed a plan. He needed to get to an escape pod. He needed to  _ get off this Primus forsaken ship. _

 

“Hey, BTE, go check that old storage case over there, near the entrance.” The damned ‘Con that had started the whole predicament called to his comrade. 

 

Smokescreen bit his lipplate and slowly let his left servo shift into an ion cannon. He knew this escape wasn’t going to be pretty, but he was out of options and on the precipice of being discovered (Smokescreen also figured the Cons would have no qualms ripping him to shreds for more fuel). Pedesteps approached his hiding spot and stopped just outside. Light flooded into the tiny space as the Decepticon opened the cabinet doors. Smokescreen hadn’t even fully processed he had fired his blaster before the scream from BTE-098 filled the air; the Decepticon crumpled to the floor clutching the side of his face that had been scorched by the blast that had been too far to the right to be fatal. Smokescreen launched himself from the space; his stiff joints immediately protested, but the autobot ignored it and charged towards the direction of the escape pods. SQE-167 immediately began firing at Smokescreen as he bolted towards his escape. The autobot yelped as a stray shot clipped his already aching doorwing. 

 

“Help! I need backup! He’s escaping and we  have a mech down!” SQE-167 could be heard shouting over his blaster fire as Smokescreen jammed his stolen key into the escape pod activation system. 

 

Smokescreen tumbled inside the escape pod and yanked the door closed behind him. The escape pod groaned as SQE-167 used the butt of his blaster to attempt to bust the door in. Smokescreen’s servos shook as he heard the shouts and collective pede falls of more Decepticons coming to their comrade’s aid. 

 

“Come on… work you stupid thing!” Smokescreen muttered as he desperately waited for the systems to fully come online. 

 

Smokescreen shouted as a shot from a higher powered blaster rocked the escape pod. He thought he could hear Circuit-breaker shouting above the blaster fire. Smokescreen was on the verge of giving up hope when the system  _ finally _ prompted its passenger for a destination. Smokescreen’s entire frame was shaking as he shouted the coordinates he knew by spark from relistening to a transmission sent out by  _ Optimus Prime himself  _ throughout his lengthy capture. The screen showed a star map and quickly processed through hundreds of thousands of coordinates until it zeroed in on its passengers destination: Some organic planet called Earth in the Milky Way Galaxy light years away.

 

The escape pod’s thrusters roared to life. The entire pod began to vibrate and hum before it shot out into space, delivering Smokescreen from his captors. He let out an elated holler followed by a frantic laugh; he had done it. He had actually managed to escape a Decepticon warship. What would his squad think when they heard he-... Smokescreen’s elation sunk into a somber realization that his squad wouldn’t be hearing  _ anything  _ anymore. He had to take a deep intake and swallow down the grief that threatened to push through to the surface. 

 

The Decepticons had razed Iacon to the ground; the Great Iacon Archives had been ransacked and its greatest protector, Alpha Trion, had been slaughtered. Smokescreen felt another pang in his spark- It had been his duty to protect the reclusive old Archivist and he had failed not only his mission but the friend he had made in Alpha Trion as well… but he was going to make it right. Smokescreen would offline before he let his friends go grey in vain. Taking a deep intake, Smokescreen activated the emergency messaging system. 

 

“Calling Team Prime on Earth: My name is Autobot Smokescreen of the Elite Guard- Identification Code 3573315.” He began, clear and professional just like he had been taught during his Elite Guard training to do whenever (potentially) addressing The Prime.

 

“Iacon and its Hall of Records has fallen.  I have escaped capture from the Decepticon warship,  _ Messantine’s Vengeance _ . I am en route to the Earth Coordinates given by Optimus Prime. I-” -a brief pause as Smokescreen gathered the strength to continue calmly-“-am the only remaining survivor of my squad and I was captured before I was able to obtain any casualty reports. The system reports my ETA is in approximately two Earth weeks. End transmission.” 

 

Smokescreen sighed as he sent out the signal, glad to finally have a quiet, solitary moment of safety. His doorwing was throbbing and his cables felt so tense they could snap, but still, he was safe for the time being. The escape pod system pinged and announced stasis induction would take place in T- 30 kliks. Smokescreen leaned back into the back of his seat and took a few deep intakes. His last thoughts before falling into induced stasis were of his too- brief  stay in the Archives and the honor of serving alongside Team Prime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I jammed pretty hard to Everything is Alright by Motion City Soundtrack while writing this.


	3. Your Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smokescreen realizes he's in over his head. Soundwave's "project" nears perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually really proud of this chapter. I feel like it flows really well and if it hasn't become obvious yet I love torturing the characters in my fics. I promise I'll get to the MegOP part of this fic soon but Smokescreen plays an important role and acts as a good prologue protag.

Smokescreen groaned as he was slowly pulled from stasis by a blaring buzzer. His optics onlined and he instinctively moved to shield them from a flashing, red warning light with his servo. Smokescreen let out a pained hiss as the movement immediately sent a barrage of pain signals from his left  doorwing to his HUD. He cursed the Con that had not only sniffed him out but had literally added insult to injury by shooting his poor, throbbing doorwing. The autobot carefully maneuvered himself into a position where he could force open and escape through the hatch of the pod without causing any further damage than he had already sustained. With a grunt of discomfort, he kicked open the hatch and pulled himself through the exit and into the atmosphere of what he hoped was the right destination. 

The planet he was on was undoubtedly organic; Smokescreen had only ever heard about the strange life of organic worlds but never experienced one for himself firsthand.  He marveled over how the flora of the planet was  _ everywhere _ . Vegetation sprawled across the ground spreading over rocks and absolutely dominating the landscape in rich hues of green and brown. The most impressive examples of plant life were the trees with hundreds of branches that towered above the young Cybertronian. The sky was an unusual hue of blue that he had never observed on Cybertron before. He found the puffs of water vapor in the highest reaches of the atmosphere a charming detail.  Smokescreen took in the sight with awe, however, he was jerked from his trance all-too-soon by the quiet sound of a twig snapping somewhere behind him. Smokescreen’s left servo instinctively shifted into his ion cannon as he spun around, optics darting to try and find the source of the sound. 

 

“Hello?” He called out, “Is someone there?” 

 

Smokescreen was answered by silence which did little to settle his unease. He knew this planet was teeming with sentient life from the few data pads he read on the subject (helpfully, and perhaps knowingly, provided by Alpha Trion one particularly uneventful cycle)

 

Smokescreen’s answer came in the form of the telltale whine of a blaster converting energon into a deadly bullet of pure energy. The Elite Guardsmech barely had time to react before a blaster shot barrelled past him, barely missing its mark. Smokescreen had thrown himself behind the damaged escape pod in order to dodge the shot, however he had been unable to pinpoint where the shot had come from, much less how many adversaries he was possibly up against. Another blast- this time from a different direction- came screaming through the air and hit to the right of the autobot, who yelped in surprise. Smokescreen fired back in the direction of the most recent shot, but he knew he was firing blind. The Autobot scowled as several nearly identical mechs emerged from the thick line of towering plants that dominated the area. Smokescreen could visually verify three enemy targets, but his sensors picked up that at least a couple more adversaries were on the other side of the escape pod. Smokescreen grit his denta together as he realized he was surrounded by a full squad of Eradicons with no backup, low fuel, and a fresh injury. 

 

“Talk about jumping out of the claws of Unicron into the smelter _…_ ” Smokescreen muttered to himself resentfully as he shifted his other servo into a second ion cannon. 

 

“You’re surrounded,” The squad leader, distinguishable from his inferiors only by a marginally different paint job, announced, “Surrender quietly or we shoot.” 

 

“Oh get scrapped!” Smokescreen snarled as his ion cannon whined to life and he opened fire on the squad leader. 

 

The squad leader leapt to the side which prompted the others to immediately react. They charged towards the lone autobot, all claws and blasters primed for deadly force. Smokescreen knew he had to act fast or he would be utterly scrapped. He ducked down as one of the Eradicons lunged towards him and rolled out of the way only to have another Con slam into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Smokescreen shouted in pain as he felt razor-sharp claws wrench themselves under his plating and dig into the softer protoform metal underneath. He swung a fist in retaliation and felt it land solidly on his opponent's helm. The Con grunted in pain, but persistently dug his claws in deeper. Smokescreen’s spark hammered in its chamber as he continued to swing wildly, panic overriding any sense of strategy. He could hear the other Decepticons closing in on him and time was running out. 

Gritting his denta together, Smokescreen quickly shifted his free servo into an ion cannon and fired on a whim and hope that he hit his mark. The Eradicon’s crimson visor flashed unnaturally bright before his entire weight slumped onto the Autobot in a lifeless heap.  Audials ringing from the blaster’s kickback pulse and the fallen Eradicaons tank-churning scream, Smokescreen believed he might have distantly registered a second scream. Smokescreen desperately squirmed in an attempt to free himself from the weight of the fallen mech. With a heavy grunt, Smokescreen heaved the corpse from his person and scrambled to his pedes. 

Smokescreen did his best to dash and get some immediate distance between himself and the remaining threats (he now cursed the giant trees that were too dense to make transforming into his alt mode a viable possibility), however when he heard the engagement of flight thrusters, he knew his fate was sealed.

 

“You dirty dustkicker!” The Eradicon shrieked as he gouged his claws into Smokescreens injured doorwing and jerked him closer, “You  _ killed  _ him! You  _ killed  _  my  _ friend _ !”

 

Smokescreen desperately tried to wrench away but every movement sent a fresh wave of agony streaking through his systems. The Eradicon hurled Smokescreen to the hard ground and began kicking the autobot in rapid succession. Smokescreen curled in on himself, covering his helm with his arms in a vain attempt to protect himself, but the blows kept coming. Coolant beaded at the corners of his optics as he prayed to Primus that the assault would stop; for a brief and blessed moment he dared to believe it may have worked as the rapid-fire kicks stopped. He shifted slightly to look up at his assailant who was being held back by two of his comrades. The leader of the troup towered over him. His facelessness left his expression unreadable. 

 

“You are one lucky spawn of a glitch that the Higher Ups want you alive, dirt-kisser,” He rasped with barely-restrained fury, “I hope that whatever they have planned makes you  _ suffer. _ ” 

 

Smokescreen didn’t have time to process the kick to helm before his systems crashed. 

 

**……**

 

It was no secret among the Officers that Soundwave had been up to something for months. None of them bothered to badger Soundwave about what it was he was working so diligently on- they knew it would be in vain, but that didn’t stop them from gossiping amongst themselves. Knockout was thrilled he and Breakdown were chosen by the silent third-in-command to have the privilege of being the first let in on the secret (something he couldn’t wait to gloat to Starscream about).  

 

“So, Soundwave, what exactly  _ is _ this little experiment of yours that you’ve been so absorbed with?” Knockout asked, arms crossed and hip leaning casually against the console of his heavy medical equipment. Breakdown loomed behind him, good optic alight with interest.

 

Soundwave said nothing as he handed Knockout a datapad in lieu of an explanation. The medic raised an intrigued optic ridge as he accepted the datapad. Breakdown leaned down so he could read over his much smaller partner’s shoulder. After a moment of quiet reading, the conjunx endurae shared a look, then turned their gaze in unison back to Soundwave.

 

“ _ shadowplay _ …?” Breakdown asked incredulously under his intake, gently taking the datapad from Knockout to reread the information packet.

 

“Well that certainly explains why this Autobot was brought to us in one piece, I suppose.” Knockout mused, his tone somewhere between amused and uncomfortable. 

 

Soundwave nodded. 

 

“Do you really think his processor can be reset and reprogrammed like that…?” Breakdown paused his reading to ask, expression marginally less eager than before.

 

Soundwave nodded again. Knockout and Breakdown shared another look.

 

“You think this could be what ends the war?” Breakdown finally asked. 

 

A third nod.

 

“Well in that case,” Knockout began, “I suppose we’d be more than happy to assist. Breakdown?”

 

“Yes, Knockout?”

 

“Be a dear and go get our  _ guest _ , would you?” 

 

“Of course.”

**……**

 

Smokescreen regained consciousness with a groan. He felt like his processor had been dipped in acid, shaken in a centrifuge, and poured back into his helm again. He sat up and rubbed his helm as he took in his surroundings. He was clearly in a cell with an ambience that  reminded him of the  _ Messantine’s Vengeance _ ; the dark, purple-hued lighting and cramped cell was an unmistakable interior for a Decepticon warship brig. Smokescreen briefly wondered if his entire escape had just been an surreally vivid dream, however when he tried to move his doorwing to test his memory a sharp pain remind him that his escape had been very, very real. Which meant his recapture at the escape pod crash site was as well. He let his helm fall into his servos and mourned the freedom that had been snatched from his servos. 

 

“Okay, Smokey,”  Smokescreen muttered to himself, “You’re not dead yet. You escaped once, you can do it again.”

 

He was just in the beginnings of cobbling together a plan when he heard the distinct beep of a security pad granting access to the brig. He felt a rush of anxiety as the  the brig doors wooshed open. A large, blue mech stepped through, flanked by two vehicons. He casually approached Smokescreen’s cell with a smirk. He was missing an optic, a detail Smokescreen immediately found unsettling, but the one good, yellow optic he did have was gleaming with mirth. 

 

“Morning, runt. Finally decide to rise and shine?” He asked mockingly. 

 

The young autobot mustered up enough energy to scowl at the mech who had stopped just outside his cell. He instinctively tried to flare out his plating, only to have his HUD bombarded with pain signals. He winced at the pain,  earning him a chuckle from the Decepticon. 

 

“You know I have to admit, I thought your dossier was embellished but you’re every bit the little scraplet it made you out to be.” He said in a tone that could almost be considered endearing if it hadn’t been dripping condescension. 

 

“What do you want,  _ Con _ ?” Smokescreen spat. 

 

The Decepticon was unphased. 

 

“What makes you think you’re in any position to be making demands here, kid?” He asked.

 

Much to Smokescreen’s irritation, the Con was amused. To Smokescreen, the entire situation was life or death, but to the Con, it was a joke. A game of turbo-fox and cyberrat. 

 

Smokescreen bristled, but before he could respond, the Con snapped his digits and one of the Vehicons immediately stepped forward and handed him a pair of heavy-duty stasis cuffs. Smokescreen reset his vocalizer nervously. The Con was  _ grinning  _ now as he held up the cuffs for Smokescreen to see. 

 

“You recognize these, lil mech? Not so tough when faced with stasis cuffs strong enough to pacify a mech twice your size are ya?” He taunted. 

 

Smokescreen frowned, but now he had an idea. If he could get the cuffs away from the con and manage to cuff  _ him _ , then he just might increase his chances of escaping. He couldn’t take on the con, but if he could immobilize him then all he had to do was outrun the vehicons. 

 

The Con opened the cell and Smokescreen immediately made a grab for the cuffs. The Vehicons moved to activate their blasters but they had no need - the large blue Con was much faster than he looked and Smokescreen hadn’t accounted for the fact that he hadn’t properly fueled since Iacon, slowing him considerably. A huge servo snagged Smokescreen by the scruff of his neck and roughly threw him to the floor. Smokescreen tried to get up despite his systems protests and HUD blaring alerts. A heavy pede applied just enough weight to his spinal strut to keep him down. The Con roughly maneuvered the smaller mech until his servos were cuffed behind his back. 

Smokescreen’s spark was hammering as the gravity of his situation closed in around him. There was no escaping this time. 

 

“That was a nice try, but you ain’t going anywhere this time, kid.” The Con chuckled as he yanked Smokescreen to his pedes. An almost nauseating haze setting over Smokescreen’s processing systems as the cuffs began to perform their function.

 

The con tossed the him to the Vehicons who each grabbed him by an arm with firm grasps. The four of them marched down a long, dimly lit corridor until they reached a set of wide double doors. Breakdown activated the keypad. The doors slid open, revealing what was undoubtedly the ship’s medical bay. Smokescreen had heard horror stories in bootcamp about the nightmares that happened behind Decepticon Medbay doors. He had no interest in seeing if they were true firsthand.  

Smokescreen feebly attempted to jerk free once more, however, his captors had no trouble yanking him back into line. They dragged him over to one of the medical slabs. One of the Vehicons removed the cuffs. Smokescreen tried to seize the opportunity to dart, but the combination of the quick movement, stasis cuff haze, and nearly empty tank made him dizzy. He stumbled and tripped. 

 

“Oh no you don’t.” 

 

The blue Con grabbed the Autobot before he fell and roughly tossed in onto the slab. His vehicon cronies wasted no time securing him down. Smokescreen tried to weakly thrash but it was useless. 

 

“Soundwave you were right. He  _ is _ a feisty one- I’m certain he’ll make a good little soldier.”

 

Smokescreen jerked his helm over in the direction of the voice. A red mech stood next to a medical console alongside a mech Smokescreen instantly recognized as the Decepticon third in Command. 

 

Oh Primus he was  _ scrapped _ .

 

“You know Starscream wasn’t too pleased that you cost him an Eradicon… I guess you’ll have to take our fallen comrade’s place.” The red mech continued with a cruel smile.

 

Bright blue optics locked onto the medic and a scowl quickly crossed the younger mech’s visage to mask the fear. What did that mean? What did he mean “take his place?” Smokescreen would  _ never  _ side with the Decepticons  _ ever _ . He grit his denta. 

 

“Slag off, con!” the autobot growled, “Or I’ll-”

 

“-or you’ll what, lil mech?” The blue mech interrupted and roughly grabbed the other’s helm.

 

Smokescreen yelped at the sudden unwelcome and gruff contact. Once the shock had worn off he tried to strain his neck cables forward in a vain attempt to wrench his helm out of the brute’s grip. The blue mech chuckled and tightened his grip, causing the younger mech to cry out in pain. He continued to wiggle as best he could without hurting his neck cabling and his expression grew more and more frantic as the reality set in that he was trapped this time. 

 

“Y-you can’t do this to me! I’m an Elite Guardsmech!” He tried desperately, “I sent out a message to the Autobots on this planet! They’ll back me up!”

 

“Hear that, Knockout? The Autobots are coming from him! He sent a message and everything!” The blue mech said derisively and shot the red mech a wicked grin. 

 

“Oh, no Breakdown. Whatever shall we do?” Knockout said monotonously while his claws clicked away at the medical data mobile. There was a small ping and a text notification. Knockout’s indifferent expression was cut by the barest hint of a smirk and he cast a look over his shoulder, “What do you think, my Lord?”

 

Smokescreen felt like his energon froze his lines. He tried to look in the direction of Knockout’s comment but the Breakdown still had a firm grip on his helm. Smokescreen tried to keep his intakes even as he heard heavy pedesteps of any Autobot cadet’s worst nightmare move into line of vision. Megatron didn’t even acknowledge Smokescreen as he responded to Knockout.

 

“I believe our  _ friend  _ here shouldn’t be so quick to assume he’ll have another miraculous escape…” He began, examining his claws as if the surrounding events were the dullest thing he had witnessed in centuries, “After all, it would have be _ so unfortunate _ for him if that message never got to the Autobots because the communications systems in his escape pod were damaged and a distress message was never sent.” 

 

A look of horror dawned on the young mech’s face as his situation was finally clear and far too real. He watched as Megatron snapped his digits. Immediately, the Medbay doors hissed open and two Eradicons dragged a visibly shaken Vehicon between them. Smokescreen watched as they strapped him to a medical berth directly opposite of him. 

 

“Please, Lord Megatron, please! Hear me out!” He pleaded, “I swear I wasn’t selling static! IQY-909 is lying! Please give me another chance!” 

 

“ _ Silence. _ ” Megatron snarled in his direction, “This  _ is  _ your second chance.” 

 

He then turned to Knockout and Soundwave, “Is everything ready?” 

 

“Yes, my Lord.” Knockout said with a small bow. 

 

Soundwave nodded. 

 

“Then proceed.” 

 

Smokescreen was so transfixed in horror by the scene in front of him that he didn’t even notice Breakdown leave his side to stand beside the cowering Vehicon, nor could he bring himself to look away. He watched as Knockout slowly eased his systems to the precipice of stasis, but never quite put him under. Soundwave moved closer to the medical berth and swiftly attached a tendril to the medical port on the back of the Vehicon’s helm. The Vehicon yelped in pain, but Breakdown held his helm still. 

 

“Easy, kid,” Breakdown murmured in a hushed tone that Smokescreen had barely caught.

 

The Vehicon’s visor flickered, but he would still give a faint tug at his restraints every so often. Eventually the Vehicon stilled. Breakdown slowly removed his servo from the his helm and began to step back until he was needed again, but Soundwave rested a spidery servo on his plating. Breakdown halted and gave him a quizzical look; Soundwave’s visor lit up and an audio-recording played. 

 

“Easy, kid.” Breakdown’s voice in the recording said and his expression quickly transitioned from sheepishness to shock.

 

“I-” Breakdown began to form the beginnings of an excuse,  but Soundwave shook his head and pointed at the Vehicon on the table. 

 

He looked from Soundwave to Megatron, who stood, watching with interest with his servos clasped behind his back. The warlord nodded at his subordinate. 

 

Breakdown seemed bewildered, but nodded and did as silently instructed. He resumed his place by the young one’s helm and quietly murmured calming words.

 

Smokescreen felt like the room was closing in around him as he watched. What were they doing to him? Was he in pain? Was he dying? Just as quickly as the process had begun, it seemed like it was over. Soundwave removed his tendril from the other’s helm and Breakdown stepped away from the limp form on the med-berth. Megatron stepped forward and spoke in a bold authoritative voice that made even Smokescreen cow.

 

“CED-011. You are to return to your duties as usual. Can you do this for me?” 

 

The Vehicons seemed to come back to life, “Of course, Lord Megatron.” He said. His voice sounded dazed. 

 

“Good. Go on then.” Megatron ordered, seemingly pleased. 

 

The restraints holding the Vehicon down clicked open and the mech wasted no time doing as he was told. Smokescreen watched as he passively followed the Eradicons who dragged him in out the door. The autobot reset his vocalizer nervously as the warlord then turned to face him, a cruel toothy and victorious grin set across his features. The look along was enough to chill even the most battle hardened veteran to the core. The words that followed made Smokescreen’s tank drop.

 

“Your turn.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The Autobots discover the crashed escape pod. Optimus makes some hard choices. 
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. This fic was inspired by Halsey's Control.

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by The Wolf from SIAMES. I'll include at least one song with each chapter update. Thanks again for reading!


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